


the way we feel (this is real)

by amemorymaze



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, M/M, and louis having an affinity for astronomy and harry having a love of the muggle world, stars and space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2686955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amemorymaze/pseuds/amemorymaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It feels like there are sparks flying all around them – the static catching in the air and crackling above the two of them. All he can feel is Harry – his touch everywhere, crawling on his skin and pumping through his veins. <br/>He feels like the human embodiment of magic. </i>
</p><p> </p><p>where they meet in the muggle world and by some crazy twist of fate, they meet in their own magical world too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the way we feel (this is real)

**Author's Note:**

> comes from the bingo prompts [celine](http://www.sully-bean.tumblr.com) sent me and this one came from "meet at 'the script' concert" and it got a awry from that but whatever. also kind of inspired by science & faith by the script (the title comes from the lyrics too). follow me on tumblr if you want; [amemorymaze](http://www.amemorymaze.tumblr.com). enjoy!!

There’s something about the emptiness of the library - where there is a calm stillness about the air and the bookshelves tower tall and dark shadows are cast behind them. The dust around untouched books lays still and undisturbed as a small figure is curled up on one of the old armchairs in the far corner of the room. The page of a book is turned and the scraping and sliding of the pages is loud in the silent room.

Sunbeams are shining through the windows, casting a light onto the boy; highlighting his cheekbones and causing his bright green eyes to glint. He loves it here, sitting in one of the only quiet areas in the school; where the shouts of students and spells can’t be heard, only the scratching of quills against papers, the rustle of books being read and quiet, murmured conversation.

Days like today, however, are Harry’s favourite.

Almost every single student is sitting in the cool, winter air with blushed, rosy cheeks and red noses as they shout and yell. They hold banners and sing and chant as they cheerlead their house to a victory. It’s something that Harry’s never been interested in; he’s been to a few matches but he never stays. Instead he prefers to sit in the library and read, study and just bask in the smell of old books, alone.

That’s what his friends think, anyway.

He sighs to himself as he looks around the blissful emptiness of the library, thanking god that he didn’t decide to venture outside into the stormy weather.

When the library door creaks slowly open and someone sneaks their way in, Harry barely flinches as he hears their cloak brushing against the floor and their light footfalls sounding like thunder in the silent atmosphere. The corners of his lips turn upwards slightly and there’s a fire blazing in his eyes.

“What are you waiting for?” Harry hears and he grins a smile that reaches his ears before slamming the book closed and shoving it back into the depths of his bag amongst the old quill feathers and ripped pieces of parchment.

He jumps up from his chair, throwing the bag over his shoulder as his robes swirl around his legs. He grabs the hand that’s offered out in front of him and looks up into shining blue eyes before he’s being hauled out of the library and into the depths of the castle.

 

+

 

_It’s much too hot and he can feel the sweat dripping down his face, but there’s a grin plastered across his face that he can’t remove. And Louis knows that his hair is far from that perfected mess it was when he was queuing beside Stan with the warm summer breeze wafting between them._

_But as he stands hidden in a sea of people, jumping and singing along to the loud music and bright lights, Louis finds himself laughing because somehow, here, he feels free._

_He turns to look to his left, hoping to say something Stan, to find that he doesn’t recognise anyone around him. Rolling his eyes, Louis huffs out a laugh because this must be a record for them – only half an hour into the gig and they’ve already lost each other. He finds himself pushing his way out of the crowd and heads towards the bar because it’s never as fun when you’re alone._

_Leaning against the sticky bar near the back of the venue, Louis looks over at the crowd as they move in unison with their hands thrown up in the air._

_But then he feels someone move next to him and Louis looks over. He feels his breath catch in his throat as he stares at the boy next to him._

_His arms are folded onto the bar as he leans all of his weight on them, his feet kicking up behind him. There’s a pretty dark blue and purple scarf tied around his long, curled hair and he’s wearing a matching floral shirt – the buttons undone to his mid chest and a swinging cross pendant is handing around his neck._

_His head is beating to the rhythm of the music and he must feel Louis’ gaze on him as he turns his head – a blinding smile on his lips – and holds out a hand._

_“I’m Harry,” he says, his voice a low drawl, each syllable drawn out as Louis grasps the boy’s hand._

_Louis feels a smile spread across his own lips; “Louis.”_

+

 

“Hey,” Harry says, pulling Louis into a hidden alcove behind a truly hideous tapestry on the third floor.

They’re close – so close that Harry can barely breathe and all he can see is the shining of Louis’s eyes in the dark. Harry’s hand slides up the side of Louis’s neck, framing his face as he touches their foreheads together.

“I’ve missed you,” Louis whispers, looking up at Harry from under his eyelashes.

Their noses are brushing gently against each other as Harry murmurs back, “I’ve missed you, too.”

They stand there as if lost in their own world – staring into each other’s eyes, barely daring to take a breath. Louis’ gaze is soft, his eyes sparkling in the light filtering through the battered old tapestry, and Harry smiles; the corner of his lips tilting upwards slightly.

But then Harry takes a step backwards, that fond smile turning into a blinding grin; “So, where are we going today, Lou?”

Louis grabs Harry’s hand, intertwining their fingers together. “Let me show you.”

Harry murmurs in agreement and leans down to press a soft kiss to the corner of Louis’ lips before Louis smiles softly and drags them out from behind the tapestry.

 

+

 

_They end up in the crowd together, not caring that their bodies are squashed up next to one another. The sea of people surrounding them moves together in a rhythm and Harry and Louis join them; belting lyrics from their lungs and singing along to the melodies._

_The crowd pushes and pulls and Louis can’t help but smile as a hand finds it’s way into his and that now-familiar body presses alongside him._

_Louis feels a laugh burst from his throat that only gets lost in the booming noise from the band. He turns his body slightly, so that it’s angled towards the boy next to him and they dance._

_He knows that he isn’t a good dancer but he just throws his head back with an arm up in the air and moves to the beat. And Harry, well, he dances alongside Louis and along with the people surrounding him._

_They lose themselves in the mass of people, but their hands are still clasped, holding them together and acting as an anchor – keeping them lost together._

_Louis feels fearless._

 

+

 

Harry loves the castle when it’s like this – when there’s no one around to disturb them and they can find out it’s secrets. They can run through the corridors, laughing and giggling as they explore the depths of the halls.

It’s exactly why days like today are his favourite, when the rest of the school is preoccupied with broomsticks, snitches and scarves.

Ever since he went to the first Quidditch match in his first year, Harry hasn’t seen the appeal, much preferring to get lost in a book or a song. Since then, he’d started taking books to the games and would sit there in the cold air as players dart through the air, their robes sailing behind them as they try and score a victory. (And as much as Harry dislikes the sport, he’ll happily participate in their victory parties.)

He would read his way through all the muggle stories and fairy tales because he already knows the wizarding world and it’s stories like the back of his hand and there’s just something quite fascinating about the muggle world. It’s like a completely different universe and Harry loves it. He loves their poetry and their concepts of magic – so very different to his reality.

But then earlier this morning, sitting under the darkening clouds in the Great Hall with Niall Horan at his side, jittering with nerves for the upcoming match, Harry has sighed.

Niall gave him a knowing, withering look before rolling his eyes, “Are you not going to come today and support me?”

Harry had huffed out a small laugh and tilted his head towards him; “I’m afraid not.” 

“Come on, Harry!” Niall said, looking up at the enchanted ceiling as a flash of lightening shot across the hall, illuminating Harry’s face in a flash of white light. “What’s better than watching your best friend win his first quidditch match?”

Harry just shrugged and stuck his fork in the bacon on his plate, twirling it around. “Not getting pneumonia? Staying warm and dry?” He paused for a moment; “Plus, we’re not even in the same house.”

Niall had given an exasperated sigh; “Even if you did get pneumonia Pompfrey would sort you out in a day or less. And Gryffindor aren’t even playing today, no one would care that you’re supporting me.”

Once again Harry shrugged his shoulders, not looking up at Niall, “Not today, Niall,” he said.

“You’re seeing him, aren’t you?,” Niall replied, rolling his eyes as he jumped up off the bench, his red quidditch robes floating around him. 

“There’s a possibility of that happening, yes,” Harry replied, a soft, fond smile gracing his lips; “You’ll do great.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Niall said, rolling his eyes. “You’re a goner, you are.”

Another flash of lightning flew across the clouds overhead and outside they heard the loud rumble of thunder and Harry looked up at his best friend with a small smile on his face. “Yeah,” he’d said, “I know.”

Niall smiled back at him before saying, “Now wish me good luck.”

“You don’t need it.”

“I know,” Niall said; “But I still want to hear it.”

Harry laughed, “Good luck, Ni!”

And he laughed as he ran away, catching up to the rest of his team; his small body lost quickly in the masses of the Hufflepuff players. 

But, here, now, with his hand in Louis’ as they ascend yet another set of stairs, Harry is so glad that he’s here instead.

“The Astronomy Tower?” Harry asks, his low drawl loud as they walk up the empty stairwell; “This doesn’t have anything to do with your affinity for stars, does it?”

Louis rolls his eyes and huffs out a small laugh, “Oi, I’m just trying to be romantic here.”

A soft smile spreads it’s way across Harry’s lips and he just tightens his hold on Louis’ hand in response.

 

+

 

 _It’s as_ _lights flash around them, the strong bass of the music blasts in the air and the heavy crowds push at them that Louis presses his hands to Harry’s waist._ _One of Harry’s hands are still tangled with Louis’ and they rest there on his waist as the band sing about space and science and faith._

 _And it’s as they’re holding hands, with lyrics being screamed around them that blazing green eyes are caught on a glistening blue_ _and Louis takes that step forward._

_He attaches his lips to Harry’s, lost in the sea of people where no one is paying attention to them, and they move together in tandem._

_Louis kisses with a fiery passion burning on his tongue as he presses himself closer. And Harry kisses back like he’s drowning and Louis is the air he can’t get enough of._

 

+

 

“A picnic?” Harry says, eyes wide in surprise as he takes in the scene in front of him. “I’m impressed.”

A light blush covers Louis’ cheeks and a small smile graces his lips as he looks away and over at the grounds of Hogwarts. The leaves on the trees are an array of gold, orange and red and the lake is a chilling blue – the depths of the water glistening in the autumn sunlight.

On the wooden flooring in front of them, there’s a tartan blanket laid on out the floor, along with a wicker basket (and Harry has no idea where Louis found _that)_ and there’s an old vinyl player sitting next to it.

Harry takes a step forward, gently pulling Louis into a tight hug – tucking his head into the crook of Louis’ neck, his curls brushing Louis’ cheeks. He takes a deep breath; “It’s perfect, Lou.”

“Yeah?” He asks, his voice soft.

“Yeah,” Harry says. Then he smirks, pulling away from the hug; “As long as you weren’t the one that cooked any of the food.”

Louis lets out a bubbling laugh, the sound vibrating in the air. “Of course I didn’t, Harold, don’t wanna poison you do I?”

Harry laughs and drags Louis over to the blanket and pulls them both down onto it – landing in a pile in the middle, their legs and arms tangled.

Their faces are inches away from each other and as Harry look up at where Louis’ looming over him he feels breathless. Louis’ sparkling blue eyes shining in the sunlight, and a fond smile is plastered across his face, making the corners of his eyes crease in happiness.

Harry lifts a hand and traces the marks that are sure to become laughter lines before surging forward.

Pressing his lips to Louis’, Harry tangles his fingers into Louis’ hair, pulling him towards him so that they’re lying back on the blanket. Harry lets his mouth fall open under Louis – the kiss deepening. Their tongues tangle together and all he can do is pull Louis closer, closer, _closer._

It feels like there are sparks flying all around them – the static catching in the air and crackling above the two of them. All he can feel is Harry – his touch everywhere, crawling on his skin and pumping through his veins.

He feels like the human embodiment of magic.

And when Louis pulls back, all he can do is tuck his head against Harry’s chest, breathing heavily as they both catch their breath.

The cool breeze is drifting around them but neither care because their touch is like fire – burning their skin. Harry closes his eyes in content, lifting a hand to thread it back through Louis’ hair.

“Hey, Lou?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He feels Louis’ breath on his neck, a deep, heavy puff of air, before he gets his reply; “I love you, too.”

 

+

 

_When the crowd disperses and all the lights come up, it’s like a whole new world – one that Louis hasn’t experienced. Louis smiles shyly at Harry and Harry smiles a small, sad smile back._

_They don’t speak, just let themselves get pulled away with the crowd, the anchor finally getting weighed – pulled up so that they can set sail._

_And Louis realises as he turns his back to Harry and makes his way towards Stan, that he couldn’t tell you the colour of the lead singers shirt but he could describe in a thousand different ways the colour of Harry’s eyes._

+

 

It’s late – the air is getting cold, they’ve eaten all the food, Harry’s finished teaching Louis the wonders of The Beatles (even though Louis already knows who they are – he just wants to listen to Harry talk) and they’ve resorted to using the picnic blanket to keep them warm.

The tartan is wrapped over both of their shoulders as they sit on the edge of the tower, their legs dangling down off the edge of the brick walls.

Louis has a quill in hand and Harry’s arm resting across his lap, patterns drawn across the pale skin as he tells Harry about the stars and the constellations – pointing them out.

Harry finds astronomy a lot more fascinating when it’s Louis’ voice teaching him all the stories. He loves the passion behind it and he knows that even though next year he’s going to be learning all the things that Louis is teaching him, he’s happy to sit here and listen to everything Louis has to say because Louis deserves every ounce of his attention.

But then they both fall silent – just watch the stars in content, the chill beginning to sneak through the thick blanket but neither of them want to move.

Then Harry remembers, back to when they met in that small little venue in the middle of Manchester. How they found each other amongst all those people there and he wonders if this is fate. He thinks back, thinks about that song they kissed to – the one about science and faith and stars and space – and begins to sing under his breath, hoping Louis recognises it. (He does).

_“You won't find faith or hope down a telescope, you won't find heart and soul in the stars. You can break everything down to chemicals, but you can't explain a love like ours.”_

And even though he does live in a world of magic with the power running through his veins but Harry wonders if maybe, this feeling right now, is what magic really feels like.

 

+

 

_He’s stumbling down the corridor on the train, searching for either an empty compartment or Niall, his bag heavy on his shoulder and fatigue hitting his body._

_Harry goes to lean against the wall for a split second, just to let himself catch his breath when he trips. He finds himself falling forward, stumbling into a compartment and someone’s outstretched arms._

_“Oops,” he says before looking up under his lashes, a bright blush burning his cheeks._

_“Hi?” Louis says, his voice shaking and his eyes wide in bewilderment._

_“Hi,” Harry replies, and he almost laughs because who would’ve thought that they would actually meet again. He wonders if it’s real – if he actually has this boy back in his arms._

_He glances into Louis’ eyes – the shining, glimmering blue the same as Harry remembers and he knows that this is real._

_Before Harry can say anything else, Niall is shouting at him and Harry shrugs in apology to Louis before turning his back and walking away, a smile playing at his lips._

_But this time as they get further and further apart from each other, there’s no finality to it because it’s not an ending._

_It’s a beginning._


End file.
